


LOCOMOTION

by Mina Lightstar (ukefied)



Category: King of Bandits Jing
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-05-07
Updated: 2006-05-07
Packaged: 2017-10-11 19:18:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/116007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ukefied/pseuds/Mina%20Lightstar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is basically Jing being all "please to be kissing my ass."  For Kirei/immoral.</p>
            </blockquote>





	LOCOMOTION

It was a seedy bar. Located in the slums of Kolada, the Antiqua was cheap, dirty, smelly excuse for a tavern. Rats lurked in classier places. One wondered why anyone with half their wits would want to drink whatever was served. The amazing thing was, by Kolada slum standards, the Antiqua was the cream of the crop.

Jing was the only human in the bar. Kir saw fit to tell him so.

"Jing," the albatross pointed out, "you're the only human in this bar."

"Am I, now?" Jing sounded surprised, even though he wasn't. He couldn't very well call himself the king of thieves if he wasn't observant. "How 'bout that." He turned his empty glass around in his hands and smiled to himself. Looked like it was almost time to go.

"Also," Kir added off-handedly, "you don't seem to be very popular." The albatross sounded nonchalant, but years of partnership gave Jing the ability to distinguish between Kir's genuine nonchalance and his _"Trouble's coming"_ voice.

Around them, the other patrons were in a state of unrest. Angry mutterings floated from more than one corner of the room, and some of the more unflattering remarks made their way right to Jing's ears.

"I guess they don't get many humans on this side of town," Jing figured. He left the glass alone and turned around on his stool, instead. The seat squeaked in protest.

"Or they do and they just kill them as they see them," Kir said matter-of-factly. "Anyway, now that I've been associated with you, I can't get any ladies. So we might as well be going."

"I don't think I was hindering you, Romeo." Jing leaned back, elbows on the counter behind him. No doubt that would rile the barkeep.

"Hands off the counter, human," came the predictable reply.

Kir made some sort of indignant noise. "Dammit, Jing, you're cramping my style." He flapped his wings and started hovering. "Let's get out of here."

Normally, Jing would have agreed with his companion and simply walked out. Normally, he would have done so without causing any trouble. Jing was a thief, after all, and thieves liked doing things quietly, expertly, without getting caught.

But Jing wasn't just a thief: He was the King of Bandits. He didn't do anything -- not even thievery -- the way it was supposed to be done, and sometimes he liked causing other types of unrest -- just because he could. "Are you sure I'm cramping your style? I could have sworn it was the smell of this dump."

The answering sneers were instantaneous. More than one drunkard stood up; the chair-legs scraping against the hard floors were music to Jing's ears. Discriminating drunks deserved to be knocked down a peg or two -- especially now that the one he was looking for hadn't appeared tonight; Jing wanted something to liven up the evening.

"Way to go, genius!" Kir called to him, though his voice wasn't terribly disapproving. The albatross was already making his way to the window. "No Kir Royales for you!"

Not that they would be needed.

"Aw, c'mon, Kir, stick around for the fun?" His question fell on deaf ears, as the albatross was long gone.

There were plenty of angry drunkards left, though.

"You all look grumpy," he told them. "Is the beer here that bad?"

Jing remained as he was, posture relaxed and eyes half-closed, until the moment the first punch headed his way. With a second to spare, Jing had somersaulted backward, using the counter-top as leverage.

"I don't think I'm ever going to come here again," Jing said in a serious tone, as though he were simply displeased with the service. Which he was, only not _really._ No, now it was all about giving the heavier drinkers a hard time.

Kir Royale was Jing's signature move, a team-attack he executed with the aid of his long-time friend and companion, Kir. He supposed the two of them used the attack so often that any who heard tale of the King of Bandits assumed he was defenseless without his partner-in-crime. It didn't matter that the drunks attacking him tonight had no idea who he was or what a "Kir Royale" was; Jing was happy to prove to them that he was more than capable of handling them without Kir's help.

He had to go through six of them before he could make it to the door. By that point, all who would have tried to take him down had already been taken care of.

***

Kir hadn't been waiting directly outside the bar, but it didn't take long for the albatross to find Jing. It rarely did; Jing supposed not many other young men in bright orange coats were racing across the rooftops in the middle of the night.

When his friend caught up with him, Jing was admiring one of the city's churches from an inn's rooftop. Kir landed on his shoulder, wings ruffling Jing's hair as he settled.

"The whole city hates you, you know."

"Heh."

"It's not funny, Jing." Kir's talons tightened their grip on Jing's shoulder.

Jing decided not to push the issue. "Anyway, it was only one bar -- and not even a worthwhile one."

"You made an unnecessary racket and woke up a whole corner of town. You're obviously bored." Kir snorted. "You should learn to be a little lazier."

"I am," Jing insisted. "I'm often lazing about. This was just a little noise-making, that's all."

"But what was the point?" Kir wondered, sounding a mite grouchy. He shifted around on Jing's shoulder -- not gently, though Jing both suspected that was done purposely and was too accustomed for Kir's punishment to have any effect. "Jing, you wouldn't even step into a bar like that unless -- hey, _Jing,_ " a quick pinch from the talons, "are you not telling me something?"

Jing smirked. "Whatever makes you think that?"

Another pinch, and then a swat from one of Kir's wings. "I can tell when you're hiding something, you know."

"Apparently not," Jing laughed.

Jing could feel eagerness and agitation radiating off Kir in waves. "A heist?"

"Of course," Jing replied, rolling his shoulders. "When isn't there?" But he didn't offer any particulars just yet. "Let's just say it's like the story of the Prince and the Pauper, with a very valuable jewel involved." He smirked.

Kir sighed. "The pauper must have bad taste, if he was going to that bar." He clawed at Jing's shoulder again. "You gonna tell me what we're going for, exactly?"

"Nope," Jing told him, and took off running across the rooftops again. Kir released his shoulder and took flight alongside him, giving him an annoyed look.

"And why not?"

"Well, I'd rather show you."

They exchanged mischievous smirks and jumped to the next roof.


End file.
